


don't walk alone and never watch the moon

by haleofStilesheart



Series: Tumblr Prompts [31]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Crushes, First Kiss, Getting Together, Halloween, Haunted Houses, M/M, Scott is a Bad Friend, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 11:15:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9382082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haleofStilesheart/pseuds/haleofStilesheart
Summary: Stiles had no idea why he kept letting himself be dragged into these kinds of situations. He should know by now to never go along with any of Scott's bright ideas.Or the one where Stiles goes to a haunted house when all he really wants to do is stay home and eat Halloween candy.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xamberry](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=xamberry).



> For the prompt: “i’m sorry i kicked you in my scared haze in the haunted house, can i do something to make it up to you?”

Stiles had no idea why he kept letting himself be dragged into these kinds of situations. Then he remembered that he and Scott had known each other for literally their entire lives and it made a little bit more sense. Not much, but enough.

Enough to remind him why he went along with Scott's asinine attempts at wooing Allison and getting off the bench at lacrosse practice. Enough to remind him why once he got his driver's license he played chauffeur for Scott and Allison on almost all of their dates.

But it didn't make enough sense for him not to be suspicious when Scott came to him and asked for a ride to the high school's annual haunted house.

For the past three years of their high school careers, Scott had never once shown any interest whatsoever in going to the haunted house. He always said it was too childish, that he would much rather stay home and watch Halloween specials.

Stiles had a feeling that Scott's sudden desire to attend the Halloween tradition had something to do with Allison. And his dad had always taught him to trust his instincts.

Sure enough, when Stiles had pressed Scott about why exactly he wanted to go, the first word out of his mouth had been,  _ Allison _ . Stiles didn't even pretend to be surprised.

Apparently, Scott's plan was to impress Allison by showing off how brave he was at the haunted house, all the students assured that this year it would be genuinely scary. Utilizing the same technique as people who took their dates to see horror movies in hopes of being the one their terrified date could cuddle up to, Scott planned to be the big, strong man whose arms Allison could fall into.

It was doomed to fail.

Because nevermind the fact that Allison was one of the most badass people Stiles had ever met, going on hunting trips with her dad every other weekend and starting an archery club at the school, that wasn't why the plan was destined for failure. It was going to fail because Scott was one of the biggest scaredy cats the world had ever known.

Just last week, he had almost fainted when Stiles had gotten a paper cut in English class, the mere sight of a few droplets of blood nearly sending him right to the floor. A few days before that he had gotten woozy from seeing a particularly rare piece of rib eye, blanching at the sight of dinner Stiles had slaved over for hours, just picking at a baked potato instead.

Stiles had told Scott as much, detailing all the times, just that week, that he had been scared shitless by the most plebeian, unassuming everyday things. From the microwave beeping to a dog barking in the middle of the night, Stiles had listed them in order of occurrence, going on for several minutes before Scott finally cut him off.

Invoking the bro code, Scott pleaded for Stiles to just come along with them, desperately in need of a ride with his mom using the car for work and his dirt bike on the fritz. After a few minutes of deliberation, Stiles had finally agreed to drive them to the haunted house, figuring he might get a little bit of entertainment out of it if Scott did, in fact, make a fool of himself.

Now, walking through the fog filled main hallway of the school which had been decked out in orange and black Halloween decorations, all by himself, he was regretting his decision.

After picking up Allison, her dad glaring daggers at him and Scott as though worried they were picking his daughter up for a threesome, they had driven over to the school. The outside of the building didn't look much different, a few fake cobwebs tossed over the shrubbery and windows and a large banner announcing the runtime of the haunted house.

At first, entering through the back entrance of the school, the haunted house had been just as boring and campy as Stiles had expected. Student and teacher volunteers randomly popped out of classrooms in cheap dollar store costumes to make people jump, the PA system playing spooky sound effect tracks full of thunder cracks and howling wolves.

He followed closely behind Scott and Allison, tapping his fingers against the spare inhaler he always carried with him just in case Scott had an asthma attack, hoping nothing scared him enough to trigger an episode. Because as they progressed through the school, it got darker, the scares more genuine, the decorations more gruesome.

The lights were completely shut off, plunging the hallways into complete and total darkness. It was deathly silent, the artificial sounds fading away as they walked further through the hall. Along the locker-lined walls, oddly real decorations adorned the hallway, raising the hair on the back of his neck.

Stiles had paused to investigate a smudge of disturbingly realistic blood on a locker when Scott and Allison apparently decided to ditch him. When he turned back around, they were both gone, leaving him all alone in the quiet, foggy hallway.

Cursing his friends for being such assholes, especially since he was their ride home, Stiles apprehensively continued on through the hallway. He didn't put it past Scott and Allison to try to scare him themselves, resigning himself to being the victim of some half-assed prank.

He just wanted to make it through the rest of the haunted house and go home, hoping to beat his dad to the leftover candy from the bowl they left on their porch for trick or treaters. But with his luck, his dad had already decimated the bowl and all he was doing was walking further and further away from the exit, stuck in the maze of hallways.

Sites was waiting for someone to jump out at him, glancing nervously at every door and alcove in the hall, chewing his lip. He was prepared for someone in a cheap mummy costume to pop out at him, someone dressed as Dracula or Frankenstein to scream  _ boo _ !

He wasn't prepared for a werewolf.

It leapt out at him from around a corner, tucked out of sight until Stiles got closer, springing out from the shadows. A vicious growl bubbled up out of its throat as it swiped a clawed hand at him, narrowly avoiding slashing his throat.

Stiles shrieked in terror at the sight of flashing yellow eyes and fangs dripping with shiny spit, taking a few steps back in shock. Scared out of his mind, acting purely on instinct, Stiles did the only thing that he could think of and kicked the werewolf right between the legs.

The werewolf fell to its knees with a pained whimper, furry hands cupping its crotch. Furry hands which Stiles suddenly realized were gloves, fake black fur on plastic, the claws actually blunt white rubber.

Just like he realized that the werewolf's snarling face was merely a mask, albeit an extremely realistic one.

The bared teeth he had been worried would rip his throat out were nothing more than painted rubber fangs. The flashing eyes that had petrified him so much were just little yellow LED lights, the only source of light in the dim hallway.

Stiles could feel the blood drain out of his face as he abruptly realized that he had just kicked some poor person between the legs. He felt like he was going to throw up when, through grit teeth, the werewolf wheezed in a painfully familiar voice, "Jesus Christ, Stiles!"

Wincing, Stiles shook himself out of his stupor and rushed to the werewolf's side, dropping to his knees beside them. He reached over to yank off the hyper-realistic mask to confirm his worst fear ― he had just kicked his long time crush, Derek Hale, right in the nuts.

He had met Derek two years prior at the vet clinic while he had been waiting to pick Scott up after his shift. Derek had rushed into the reception area holding a small gray kitten in his hands, announcing he had found it on the side of the road and just wanted to make sure it was alright.

Stiles had been gone for him ever since.

"Oh my god, Derek!" Stiles gasped, tossing the grotesque mask over his shoulder, ignoring it as it thumped against the tiled floor. Laying a hand on Derek's shoulder, curling his fingers into the sleeve of Derek's shirt, he apologized, "I'm so sorry! I didn't know it was you! Not that I would've wanted to kick someone else! You were wearing that mask, which kudos to you is like super realistic! Did your sister make it? Because I know she's really into art and SFX makeup and stuff, so―"

"Stiles," Derek snapped through grit teeth, immediately silencing Stiles' rant before it could stretch out into something longer and more convoluted. Stiles snapped his mouth closed with a click, miming zipping his lips and throwing the key away, well aware of how annoying his rambling could be.

Forehead furrowed while he clutched his poor balls through his jeans, Derek let out another whine of pain, the sound driving a knife through Stiles' heart. Tightening his grip on Derek's shirt, Stiles leaned closer and murmured, "I'm sorry, Derek. I'm so sorry."

"It's fine, Stiles," Derek grit out, breathing deeply through his nose to help alleviate the pain, a muscle in his jaw twitching. As though trying to convince both himself and Stiles, Derek repeated himself, mumbling, "It's fine."

Squeezing Derek's arm with one hand, Stiles tentatively ran his fingers through Derek's hair, brushing a few strands off his forehead. Smoothing out the furrow between Derek's brows, Stiles wondered aloud, "Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

Catching a glimpse of a shy smile stretching over Derek's face, Stiles smiled himself, glad to see that Derek wasn't too furious with him. Running his hand over Derek's arm, Stiles insisted, "I mean it. Anything."

"Well, there is one thing," Derek announced, tilting his head up to meet Stiles' eyes, thankfully looking much less pained. Stiles just nodded eagerly, prompting Derek to casually suggest, "You could kiss it better?"

Stiles froze. Had Derek really just suggested something so crass? Was he really implying that Stiles should kiss him  _ down there _ ?

He yanked his hands back, severing all physical contact between him and Derek, jumping to his feet. He took a few steps back, wide eyes darting between Derek's face and his crotch where his gloved hands were still cupping his abused junk.

Curling his hands into fists at his sides, Stiles narrowed his eyes, feeling his face flush in humiliation as he watched the smile fall from Derek's face. He was sorely tempted to give Derek another kick in the balls, instead simply snarling, "Excuse me?!"

Apparently realizing what he had just implied, Derek raised his palms, looking horrified by his own words. Shaking his head, he insisted, "No! No, no, no! That's not what I meant! I just-I just meant―"

"What?" Stiles pressed, taking a step closer to Derek. "What did you mean?"

Derek's eyes immediately shot down to the floor, faking sudden interest in the pattern of the tiles. A light flush coloring his cheeks, he reluctantly admitted, "Maybe like...a kiss on the cheek...?"

"Oh," Stiles said simply, at a loss for words. He hadn't been expecting that.

Deflating as every last trace of anger seeped out his body, Stiles bit his lower lip, thinking about his next move. Feeling his own cheeks fill with heat, he formulated a plan he hoped wouldn't backfire, cautiously kneeling back down beside Derek.

"Forget about it," Derek muttered quietly, turning his head to avoid meeting Stiles' eyes, shifting to sit on his butt on the cold tiled floor. Hugging his knees to his chest, tucking his face against his legs, he miserably claimed, "It was stupi―"

Stiles cut him off with a kiss, cupping his cheek with one hand to turn Derek's head back towards him, tugging him closer with a hand fisted in the front of his shirt as he pressed their lips together on pure impulse. Derek hesitated for a moment before responding, curling a gloved hand around the back of Stiles' neck to haul him closer.

Stiles sighed almost dreamily against Derek's lips, having never even dared to hope that his first kiss could be with his crush. He shuffled even closer to Derek, wrapping an arm around his shoulders just so he would know what it was like to hold Derek.

He hummed high in his throat when Derek teased his bottom lip with a hint of tongue, swiping it across the seam of his lips in a barely-there glide. Kissing Derek was something he could easily become addicted to.

Reluctantly breaking the kiss to get some air, Stiles licked his lips, eyes still closed as he willed his brain to come back online. He could feel Derek's warm breath on his lips as they both panted a bit, winded from the admittedly short kiss.

"Better?" Stiles whispered as he slowly opened his eyes, unable to keep from feeling rather proud of the more pronounced blush on Derek's high cheekbones. He brushed the pad of his thumb over the pink cheek, feeling the slight prickle of stubble against his skin.

"Mmm... Much," Derek answered with a devious little smirk curling his lips to the side, the sight somehow infatuating Stiles even more than he already was. He opened his eyes a moment later, looking up at Stiles with a kaleidoscope of colors glittering in his irises.

"Go out with me."

They both paused, looking at each other in awe and confusion, having both blurted out the same thing at exactly the same time.

Stiles broke first, ducking his head and laughing at their simultaneously request. Raising his head, he nodded and announced, "Okay. How about next Friday at seven? You can pick me up at my house in your leather jacket."

"Alright," Derek readily agreed, grinning widely before leaning in for another quick kiss. It was merely a peck on the lips, a fleeting bit of contact that nonetheless filled both their cheeks with heat.

"So," Stiles began, scratching his nails through the hairs at the back of Derek's neck. "How the hell do I get out of here?"

**Author's Note:**

> You can come find me on tumblr, too! [hale-of-stiles-heart.tumblr](http://hale-of-stiles-heart.tumblr.com/)


End file.
